


George

by Anonymous



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Bickering, Crack, Gen, Hux is Not Nice, Pets, Presumed Dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 08:06:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6366001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As far as Hux is concerned, the best thing to come out of Starkiller’s destruction is Kylo Ren being horribly wounded. The worst is not the loss of so many personnel, or so many millions of credits worth of machinery. It’s the fact that he had to go back for Kylo Ren, and in the meantime lost the chance to save Millicent. For a kinkmeme prompt requesting Millicent dying on Starkiller (or being presumed dead), Hux being torn up about it but refusing to show it, and Kylo Ren trying to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	George

The best thing to come out of Starkiller going down was Kylo Ren being in medical for a week, in a bacta tank, unable to destroy any more consoles, rooms, holoprojectors, droids, weapons of mass destruction, or Hux’s life in general. The worst thing about Starkiller going down was the loss of assets, which far outstripped anything Kylo Ren had ever managed to fuck up before. 

When he was called in to meet with Snoke, Hux determinedly did not think about what he had done as Starkiller was going down. Snoke could sniff out weakness, and like as not would destroy Hux if he knew what was tearing around inside Hux’s chest. 

“We could not have anticipated—“ Hux began. 

Snoke held up a hand. “You will turn this situation to our advantage,” he said. “Kylo Ren has fought the girl. He will be able to find her.” 

In between tantrums, Hux thought, which gave him the strength to continue. 

“Yes,” said Hux. 

Snoke regarded him carefully, seeing all the way through Hux like he was made of transparisteel. “You regret saving Kylo Ren.” 

“He is immature and petulant,” said Hux. 

“Your duty is to temper him,” said Snoke. “Am I to understand that you no longer desire this duty?” 

“He will find the girl,” said Hux. He was about as Force-sensitive as a rock, so he didn’t really understand (or care) how all this worked, as long as it worked. “And we will crush the Resistance.” 

“Good,” said Snoke. “You may have value yet.” 

Snoke’s holo wasn’t the broad, awe-inspiring giant that he’d used when they inhabited a more civilised space. Instead, it was a small projection. Like the First Order, Hux thought — the mighty fallen, licking their wounds on a base that didn’t have half the home comforts that Starkiller had enjoyed. 

When Hux finally managed to escape, he went to Medical, only to discover that Medical was in uproar because Kylo Ren was missing. They'd let him out of his tank, and he'd done the bolt. Wonderful. 

Some days, Hux really understood why Ren put his lightsaber through multi-million credit machinery when he was angry. But Hux wasn’t Kylo Ren. He was smarter than Kylo Ren, and he knew that an injured man wouldn’t have got far. It was Hux’s duty to be the commander, Hux’s duty to be mature. 

It wasn’t Hux’s duty to snarl at the medical staff and terrify them, but that was just a perk. He stalked out of the Medical bay, took three left hand turns (Kylo Ren was nothing if not predictable), and found Kylo Ren sulking in a chair in the officer’s lounge. The other officers — all newly promoted — were nowhere near him, and they scarpered when they saw Hux’s expression. Good. 

“If you’re here to give me condolences for my father’s death, you’re wasting your time,” said Kylo Ren, lounging as elegantly as one can when they’re still slightly slimy with bacta. 

“You killed him. If I were giving you anything, it would be congratulations,” Hux replied. “Get up.” 

“No,” said Kylo. 

“Get up. You’ve got four Medical personnel determined they’ll be executed for letting you sneak out and potentially die in a corridor somewhere. We lost enough Medical staff on Starkiller. I’m not losing any more.” 

“I want to be alone.” 

“That is not happening,” said Hux, matter-of-factly. “You are not going to continue in this vein, even if I have to drag you back myself.” 

“Give up, Hux,” said Kylo. “You don’t always have to chase after me.” 

Hux did not backhand him, but it was close. It would probably destroy the good work the bacta had done, but frankly, Hux could do with one less Knight of Ren in the galaxy. He dragged Kylo to his feet, and it was only by threatening to drop him that he managed to get the man to deign to stand. 

“I’ve lost enough because I went back for you,” Hux snapped. “I have no patience for your childishness; I lost my chance to save what mattered to me, and right now you are making me query the wisdom of that decision.” 

“Lost your tentacle girls holos, did you?” asked Kylo. 

He didn’t even dignify that with a response; he just stood there, glowering, until Kylo Ren shifted, looking slightly contrite. Maybe he’d felt a disturbance in the Force. 

“Fine. I suppose we lost the right to be alone when we took command,” said Kylo. “And you’re here to ensure I don’t forget it.” 

No, thought Hux. Command is the loneliest position in an army. He didn’t say anything, just led Kylo back to Medical, where the staff stopped fluttering around in panic and got him back into bed and his vitals monitored. Hux went back to his temporary accommodations, and undressed in silence. He got into bed, which was cold, and part of him waited for paws on his coverlet, waited for a purring ball of malice to settle tucked in close to his side. 

But of course, he’d gone back for Kylo Ren, not for Millicent. He scoffed to himself, thinking of his earlier conversation with l’esprit de l'escalier. Had he thought of it at the time, he'd have pointed out that Kylo Ren was definitely wrong.  


It was easy, far too easy to be alone. 

 

___________

 

Hux was unimpressed that three days after being de-tanked, Kylo Ren was up and about and barking orders at Troopers. Mostly stupid orders about setting his quarters to rights, and painting things black; there were only one or two genuinely useful initiatives in there. Part of Hux almost hoped Kylo Ren would bring the Resistance down on their heads, just so that he could say _I told you that diverting Stormtrooper labor to painting your bedroom was a terrible idea. You should have been setting up defences instead_. 

Kylo Ren paced in the briefing room as they waited for Snoke to comm in on the second day of Kylo's release from Sickbay. He turned, suddenly, his cape sweeping out in a graceful arc that Hux was _not_ jealous of, no, he wasn't, not that he put stock in appearances. 

“Where is Millicent?” asked Kylo.

Hux scowled. “Where you do think?” 

“Usually, she’s trying to hook my cape with her claws. Or bite me. I still have scars from last time,” said Kylo, and Hux felt a momentary blush of fondness for Millicent and her ability to see past the cape and to the man wearing it. Kylo turned to him, and even though he had the mask on, Hux could feel the unspoken question. 

“Millicent went down with Starkiller,” said Hux, hating that his voice went hoarse when he said it. They’d lost good troopers; valuable troopers, troopers whom they’d put time and training and credits into, not to mention their extremely expensive super weapon. But it was Millicent he thought of when he was in his quarters at night; she’d always climbed onto his bed and curled up in the space behind his knees. No matter if he’d had a terrible day or a good one, Millicent had always been happy to see him. 

Kylo seemed to pause for a long time. "I see," he said, eventually.

“As did Captain Phasma, and millions of credits worth of personnel and technology,” said Hux. “One pittan, in the grand scheme of our failure, does not even figure.” 

“It seems that there was much that someone should have anticipated,” said Kylo Ren, and there he was, there was the undiluted asshole that Hux was used to.

“Go slash up a console somewhere,” said Hux, too tired to think of a better insult, but then Snoke commed in, and they had to be on their best behaviour. 

___________

 

Captain Phasma was the real loss, Hux thought, as he grimly inspected row after row of Stormtroopers. He didn’t know how she’d had the patience for this shit — but then again, perhaps she hadn’t had the patience for it. Perhaps the reason why she’d always had troopers out running laps and cleaning out the garbage chutes was because Stormtroopers were supposed to be uniform, and there was always some hideous failure ruining everything. It seemed every squadron had their own idiot.

And then Hux lit onto what a genius Phasma had been — every squadron _did_ have their own idiot, because it strengthened the bond between the troopers to have someone to hate. Someone who got them put onto extra duties, lost them points in the squadron of the month competition. Someone who could be left behind with no guilt, someone who could be sacrificed if an example needed to be made. 

It was exciting just thinking about it. He got a spring back to his step contemplating just how far he could push a squadron before they killed one of their own, and he was happily returning to his quarters with visions of blood and fire when he ran into Kylo Ren. 

“Good,” said Kylo Ren, upon seeing Hux. “I’d been hoping to run into you.” 

“What have you broken this time?” asked Hux. 

“Nothing.” 

“Don’t tell me they’ve diagnosed whatever horrible condition makes you the way you are.” 

“Whatever it is, it’s contagious,” said Kylo Ren, and Hux got the distinct impression that he meant _and I caught it from you, asshole_ , by that. 

“What, then?” 

Kylo Ren reached into a fold of his robes — the man wore more layers than a senator, it was embarrassing. He drew something out and looked at Hux, his face unreadable through the mask. 

“This is for you,” said Kylo. He had the grace to seem slightly embarrassed, holding out something tiny and defenceless in gloved hands. “One of the animals on this base recently spawned offspring.” 

Hux didn’t say anything; he took the small, mewling ball of fluff in his hands and cradled it to his chest. 

“Why?” he asked. 

“Because you came back for me,” said Kylo. “You hate me, but you came back for me.” 

“I don’t hate you. I dislike you. There’s a difference.” Hux looked up, met the eyes of the mask. It felt like bitter poison, but he had to say it: “Thank you.” 

“See that it doesn’t find its way into my quarters,” said Kylo, sweeping off in a swirl of cloak. 

Hux pressed his cheek to the tiny baby’s fur, and then belatedly looked around to ensure no-one had seen, tucking the pittan into a fold of his uniform to smuggle it back to his rooms. 

 

___________

 

He called Millicent’s replacement George. No, not Millicent’s replacement, because where Millicent had been a ball of fur and anger, George was fur and trouble. He quickly discovered the ventilation ducts, and got into things. George got into the kitchens, and brought Hux back half of some dead piece of vermin. George somehow got behind a console and tore out all the wires — it was fortuitous that Kylo Ren destroyed the outer shell of the same console only hours later. George got into Kylo Ren’s quarters, and Hux only just managed to get hold of him before he did something unspeakable in Ren’s spare helmet (although in retrospect, he should have allowed it).

George was the catalyst for one of the squadrons nearly beating their idiot into a paste, when he tipped over a non-regulation cup of caf that the idiot was drinking, causing the idiot to jump and flail as it got all over the monitoring station the idiot had been at, and the idiot’s armour, and the idiot’s shoes, which was cause enough for Hux to reprimand the _entire squadron_. 

Hux couldn’t have been prouder. 

The best thing about George, however, was once the mangled remains of whatever vermin he’d fetched in had been dealt with, he liked to curl up on Hux’s lap and purr like the thrumming of a TIE-fighter engine. Hux, of course, would never admit to this. He had a faint feeling that Kylo Ren knew, but seriously, Kylo Ren could go and put his lightsaber someplace tender and then turn it on. 

 

___________

 

They were mid-argument about the best time to strike the Resistance when a stormtrooper interrupted what had been a brilliant piece of furious rhetoric on Hux’s part. He considered striking the man, but then considered that there were more pleasurable ways to make him suffer. 

“Sirs.” JB-007 looked uncomfortable, despite not moving a muscle in his body. It seemed that he’d been selected for messenger duty, and Hux could extrapolate that the message may provoke Kylo Ren, if the discomfort in JB-007’s stance foreshadowed anything. He vaguely wondered what this JB trooper had done wrong. “We’ve received a comm from one of the escape pods from Starkiller.” 

“Escape pods?” asked Kylo Ren.

Hux shook his head. “They were all destroyed.” 

“This one…wasn’t,” said JB-007, visibly making an effort not to flinch. Idiots, all of them. 

“Who was on board?” asked Hux. 

“Captain Phasma, and a small detail of Stormtroopers.” The stormtrooper shifted his weight, just a little. “We’ve picked them up; they should be landing soon.” 

Hux exhaled. Phasma. Her death had been such a blow; it was almost an omen that she’d been found alive. They’d have to strike against the Resistance before intel about her survival got through to them. 

“Phasma?” Kylo Ren sounded as pleased as he ever did. “Excellent.” 

It was by silent agreement that they went to meet the shuttle; Hux clapped the still-tense JB trooper on the shoulder as he passed, a wordless warning of misery to come. Snoke would reward them all for this, and they’d be able to use Phasma more effectively — especially if they discovered where she’d actually _been_ during the battle. 

Ren’s cloak billowed out behind him as he strode down the corridors and narrow gantries to the docking bay. Hux followed, plotting out battle scenarios in his head. It didn’t prepare him for what he saw when they got to where the rescue ship had docked; a load of scruffy stormtroopers being marched off to Medical, and Phasma, as shiny as the day she was promoted, holding something furry at arm’s length. 

“General Hux,” she said. “I believe this belongs to you.” 

“Millicent,” he said, taking her, not caring about the scourge of cat fur on black clothing. She bit him, and then stretched out her neck to be petted. He scratched her under the chin, and looked over at Phasma. 

“Thank you, Captain,” he said, sharply. “Report to Medical.” 

“I do not need to,” she said, inclining her head a little. “I am uninjured.” 

“Then I’ll see about clearing you some quarters,” he said. 

“We must speak about strategy,” said Kylo Ren. “Hux, get rid of that animal and meet in the Officer’s lounge.” 

Usually, Hux would verbally eviscerate Kylo Ren for daring to issue him an order, but this time it gave him the chance to escape briefly with Millicent; to hug her close to his chest, to let her chew on his wrist for having the temerity to pet her. He didn’t even think about George until he got back to his quarters. Oh well. Survival of the fittest. Hux put Millicent on his bunk, stroking her soft head, and then used his fur brush to clean up his uniform. 

With a tiny but mighty yowl, George pounced on Millicent, who growled and smacked him with one paw, and then picked him up by the scruff of the neck, settling him in beside her, licking his head. George was a tiny ball of fury, but Millicent held him down until he submitted to her, biting him for good measure just so he knew who was boss. George cried, and then gnawed on Millicent’s shoulder a little as she groomed him. 

Hux looked at them both fondly. He supposed this would do. 

 

_________

 

“We’re locked on the Millennium Falcon, sir,” said one of the astrogators on the bridge of Hux’s new Star Destroyer. He looked like a child. Were they employing children now? Hux didn’t know. He knew that there were some terribly tiny stormtroopers, but they were generally Phasma’s problem. 

“Good,” said Hux. 

Millicent jumped up onto Hux’s standing desk, and sat placidly observing the bridge. There was just a hint of menace to her stance and stare; he’d brought her on board because she was a spacer, just as he was, and besides, one of the big issues in Star Destroyers was that the sheer size of the ships tended to mean that once vermin got in, they were nearly impossible to get out without something hunting them. Good thing that Millicent was good at hunting. 

“Signals are reading three life forms and one droid.” 

“Bring them in,” said Hux. If you could _trap_ the vermin before they became a problem, well. That was another thing entirely. “Captain Phasma? Our guests will require a welcoming party.” 

“Very good,” she said, and even though he couldn’t see her smile, he could hear it in her voice. 

“I shall come down presently,” Hux added. “Do keep an eye out for Kylo Ren. I hear he’s got unresolved issues about what that scavenger girl did to his face. We wouldn’t want anything to…happen…to our guests, would we?” 

“Not at all,” said Phasma. “I’ll be sure to tell him myself.” She paused. “You do remind me of that pittin, you know. You both enjoy playing with your food.” 

And Hux hadn’t set it up so that Kylo Ren would get to burn the scavenger girl like she’d done to them. No, he definitely hadn’t. Because he didn’t like Kylo Ren. It was just convenient, really, that he was on board when they picked up the Falcon. It certainly wasn’t payback for — for George. He cleared the thought from his mind. 

Hux stroked Millicent, and then clicked on the comm channel. “Millennium Falcon,” he said. “How nice to see you. Do come in; we’re always in the mood for guests…”


End file.
